Disarm
by Stickittodamoneosis
Summary: [L&OFlawless crossover...because I can] After a drag queen is involved in a shooting, an incapacitated Ed Green insists on helping all he can. Was that an awesome summary or what?
1. The Night It All Went To Hell

_a/n: I've had this on livejournal for quite some time now...I'm not sure why I haven't uploaded it here._

_Oh, cough...I'm No Room At The Holiday Inn, obviously. I changed my name.  
_

* * *

It was then end of a great day. It had been beautiful outside all afternoon, sunny and not too hot. She'd been out window-shopping with her friends all day. But now, she was alone.

It was the night of August 31, 1999.

Her life was about to go to hell.

**CHUNGCHUNGCHUNGCHUNGCHUNGCHUNGCHUNGCHUNGCHUNGCHUNG**

Ivana Man, a drag queen, walked the three blocks home at a slow pace, drinking in the near-empty streets of Alphabet City at ten o'clock all she could. Amazing Grace, her best friend, had wanted her to stay at Femmes Fatale that night to watch her new act, but Ivana had other things on her mind.

As soon as she got home, Ivana knew something was different- firstly, the middle-aged Hispanic man seated next to a large black guy on her couch. Neither of them looked too happy. Secondly, the entire apartment was even messier than usual. It seemed her whole living space had been ripped apart by a tornado.

"Mr.…Z?" She questioned with a loud gulp. The drag queen knew what was coming.

"You knew the deal, queer bait," Mr. Z said in a menacing tone. "We agreed that if you didn't have my money by noon, you'd be dead meat, correct?"

"W-we-" Ivana began, as pale as a sheet.

"Ain't that right, Donzo?" The drug dealer said, turning to his bodybuilder 'friend'. Donzo nodded with a grunt.

"I just n-need more time…p-please, don't…" She stuttered, backing against the wall. "Please!"

"Should've thought about that earlier, shouldn't you?" Mr. Z said coldly as Donzo suddenly took firm hold of her arms. Ivana tried to fight him all she could, thrashing in is grasp, trying to kick him with her heels, everything. The bodyguard was unaffected.

"Aww, don't fight it, kid." The scarred Hispanic said, clearly reveling in her fear. The dealer pulled out his shotgun and fired one shot straight into her stomach.

Ivana was immediately paralyzed with fear and excruciating pain. The only thought going through her mind was 'I'm gonna die…I'm gonna die…'. She could feel her own blood gushing out of her abdomen, starting to trickle up her esophagus. Donzo dropped her to the ground, high-tailing it out of there with his boss as they always did.

The last thing the drag queen could remember was heaving, streams of blood bursting from her mouth, and seeing light pour into the dark room from the hallway.


	2. Killing Me Softly

_Oh, snap._

* * *

"Ivana!" Cha-Cha cried, rushing into the room and kneeling down in the small puddle of blood on the floor. Frantically checking for a pulse, she had to wait a few seconds before detecting a very light beat against her fringers. She hoped it was just her imaginataion, and scrambled to the phone to call 9-1-1.

"Hello?" The operator asked in the same serious tone shared by all telephone operators, police or no.

"My friend's been shot!" The young drag queen squeaked into the phone.

"Where are you?" The same operator asked.

"Edward Lane building... Avenue A, room 43, fourth floor." Cha-cha was doing an awful job of seeming calm."

"Thank yuo for calling. We'll send an ambulance right over." The line went dead.

"Oh, Ivana...who could've done this to you?" Cha-cha asked her unconcious friend, taking hold of her hand.

It was cold.

**CHUNGCHUNGCHUNGCHUNGCHUNGCHUNGCHUNGCHUNG**

AFter the ambulance had loaded up and driven away Ivana, Cha-cha was left in her friend's apartment to be questioned by one of the detectives who'd come to the scene.

"What was the name of your friend?" The officer, whose last name the blonde dancer had gathered was Fonatana, asked.

"Stop talking about her like she's already dead!" The still near-hysterical drag queen sniffled.

"Sorry. What is the name of your friend?"

"Ivana M- Wait." She racked her brain, trying to remember Ivana's given name. "Ivan Petrovski."

"What were you doing when you found her...uh...him?" Fontana obviously was none too comfortable in this situation.

"She'd left the club early." Cha-cha started. "She said she wasn't feeling too good. She was pretty pale, too. I was bored and...I wanted to talk to her." Cha-cha covered her face with the tissue she ws holding, crying again.

"Sorry." She said softly. "I'm just worried about her..."

"I...uh...understand." Fontana stated nervously.

"Yo, Fontana!" The other detective, Falco, held up a plastic baggie. "I think we got something here." Inside the baggie was a small amout of white powder.

**CHUNGCHUNGCHUNGCHUNGCHUNGCHUNGCHUNGCHUNG**

"Please...can't you just tell me what's going on?" Cha-cha begged the doctor.

"I told you already, miss! All I can tell you is that she's in a coma from bloos loss. I can't relese any more information for the next three days!" Said the nurse, who was getting annoyed.

"Cha-Cha, baby, maybe I should take you home. You need sleep." Rusty cooed, holding lightly onto her younger friend's forearm.

"No...sorry, Rusty. Thanks, but I really just want to be alone. Okay?"

Rusty looked skeptical.

"If you're sure." She said finally. "But when you get home, come see me if you need anything. I'm right upstairs." She gave Cha-Cha a comforting smile and a tight hug for comfort.

"Thanks, I will." She watched rusty leave and soon found herself wandering into Ivana's hospital room.

Rusty had always been like a mother for Cha-Cha. Amazing Grace, the loudmouth, uppity queen of the group, was more like a big sister than in any biological family. Ivana, though, was more than that. She was Cha-Cha's best friend and confidante above all, always patiently listening to her complaints with an occassional interjection of criticism or agreement. Without her, already, Cha-Cha was lost. Her feelings, sitting in that uncomfortable metal chair next to what was liable to become her best friend's deathbed, were those of dispair.

"Who's your friend?" Asked the person in the other hospital bed in the room. Cha-Cha jumped. She'd hardly noticed that there had been another bed in the room, much less that there was a person in it.

"What?" The drag queen turned around in her seat to face the guy behing her, not bothering to wipe the streaked makeup off her face.

"What happened?"

Cha-Cha hestitated.

"Ivana...she got shot. She's in a coma. I'm not sure she's gonna make it...just, when I found her last night, she barely had a pulse..." She bit her lip again as the tears started to flow again.

"Rough." The man said, his chocolate-brown eyes reflecting the sympathy he felt. "Do you need to talk about it?"

"Actually..." The young queen wiped her eyes on the short sleeve of her blouse, leaving a dark mascara stain. "I'd rather talk about anything else."

The guy laughed, and she couldn't help but laugh with him.

"I hear you." He smiled at her. Cha-cha turned her chair towards him so she wouldn't have to turn to speak to him.

"What about you? What happened to you?" The bleached blonde inquired.

"Shot in the line of duty." He said officially, making quotes in the air with his fingers, gently, so he wouldn't pull out the I.V. in his arm. "And they have me on so many painkillers right now that I can hardly feel myself from the shoulders down." He chuckled.

"In the line of duty? What do you do?" She asked.

"Homocide Detective." He shrugged. "Green...Detective Ed Green."

"LIke James Bond?" Cha-cha smiled.

"Yeah, kinda like that." Ed grinned. "Some murder suspect shot me about a week ago. One of those wifebeaters, you know." Cha-Cha nodded.

"Yeah, all too well." She shook her head. "I'm Cha-Cha."

When she held out her hand limply to him out of habit, he bent over and kissed it jokingly.

Cha-Cha knew this was the beginning of something.


	3. Pecan Pie No More

_A/N: I continue not to own this. have I mentioned that lately? 'Cause I don't, just the plotline._

_Warning: This chapter may contain content some of you might find objectionable. Don't take it out on me if yoi don't like it, because I warned you._

* * *

Visiting hours ended at seven, but that was no problem for Cha-Cha. A nurse had come in at 6:15 to change Ed's bandages and give him his pain meds. Seeing as Ivana was still flat out, she saw no reason to stay .After all, Cha-cha certainly wasn't doing any good to her best friend sitting by the bed and either moping or staring off into space for another 45 minutes, was she? She was out by 6:30.

It was pretty cold outside- she was thankful for the furry blue trench coat Rusty had made her for Christmas last month. The young drag queen would have taken a taxi, had the night not been so clear. It was a surprising sight in New York, the stars looking like that. She hadn't seen much of them since she made her way up from Miami, and no way was cha-Cha de los Santos Perez Cueva going to miss that just because it was a little chilly outside.

Big mistake.

She was almost there- it was a block away from her apartment building. Cha-cha had barely crossed them street when large, dirty hands pulled her into one of the many cliché dark alleys in the city. This one was a dead end, a high chain-link fence separating her from the only way out.

A single harsh light sliced through the darkness of the space from the side of one building, though it was hardly enough to bathe the whole alley. In its light, she could make out the outlines of two other men- one tall, one rather slight of build.

The one behind her was a bear, holding her wrists painfully at her back to keep her in place. Theo there she didn't recognize, but the bleach blonde knew who the short, lean one was as soon as she saw his face come into the light.

She'd seen him last night. He'd almost knocked her over, hurtling down the stairs in a solemn fury.

It was him.

"So, bitch..." Dr. Z began, almost too calmly, as he stepped into the light. "You know that little faggot who's been stealin' off me for the past month?"

Cha-Cha shook her head in terror.

"I don't...know what you're talking about." She whispered. The dealer patted his pocket lightly.

"Oh, I think you do..." He said, his yellow teeth showing as his lips pulled into a smirk. "I seen you with that junkie fucker for a long time. Now what's a sweet pussy like you doin' hangin' out with a bunch of drag queens, hmmm?"

She could've laughed if she hadn't been so scared and appalled at the whole situation. Did this guy actually think she was a girl? Damn...maybe she really was flawless.

"Unless, of course, you ain't got one." Dr. Z's smirk widened as he waved the other goon forward to rip off the coat and forcefully pull down her skirt and tights, exposing almost all of the drag queen to the bitter cold.

"Just like I though...you're one of them cocksuckers too." The drug dealer pulled out a revolver and held it under hard chin, raising her head up to meet his stone-cold eyes.

"Listen here, baby queen..." he hissed."I'm gonna get my money from one of you. I'll kill you and the rest of you sons of bitches if I have to. It's my pay or your life." He cocked the gun back. "You got it?"

"Y-yes." Cha-cha croaked. Dr. Z removed the gun.

"Good." He muttered, putting the pistol back in his jacket and kicking the drag queen hard in the crotch, until she was writing on her knees in pain.

"You squeal, you gonna me in a lot worse pain than that." He stated, turning to the goons.

"Do what you want with him. Call the fag a cab before you go..." He stroked her cheek lightly with his fingers, smirking widely. "We can't have such a pretty little queer freeze do death, can we?"

She spat on him.


	4. Read the Writing on the Wall

**_A/N: I don't own Flawless, I don't own L&O, you know the drill. If I owned Flawless, there woulda been a helluva lot more Cha-Cha, and Jackie Beat would have SUNGGG._**

* * *

The next day, sure enough, Cha-cha was back at the hospital. Sure, Ivana was the reason she got raped, humiliated at the hands of three men she didn't even know. Yes, she was terrified for her life, her friends, and her dignity. Of course, the young drag queen was still visibly shaken from the whole incident. Still, cha-Cha drew a strange kind of comfort from being near the comatose body of the one person that knew her best.

She gazed at her friends from behind large, dark glasses. It was snowing hard outside, a heavy winter flurry of greyish snow. The room wasn't exactly brightly lit, either. No, the sunglasses were purely for her ego, so that nobody else could see her eyes- they'd become chocolate-brown pools of hurt, surrounded by a red puffy mass of swollen skin resulting from a night of crying and troubled sleep.

"Damn you, Ivana." She whispered, her hands trembling as she celnched them onto the armrests of the cheaply-upholstered chair she'd been sitting in. "If you knew what kind of hell I"m going through because of your drug-addicted ass..." Cha-cha covered her mouth and looked down at her lap.

"Vannie, I don't understand." She whispered, taking off the sunglasses and wiping her eyes, the mascara she didn't know why she was wearing running down her face and stinging her cheeks. "You bitch."

"Drugs, huh?" Ed wondered aloud from the other side of the room.

"Detective green?" Cha-cha asked shakily.

"Oh, sorry. Didn't mean to say that aloud." The detective said to the ceiling.

"It's...okay." The dancer whispered. "Sorry I woke you up."

Ed sat up, something that took a lot of effort with the bandage covering the bullet hole over his lower ribs.

"How'd you find out?" He asked the drag queen softly. Cha-cha was hesitant. "I can't make you say anything, but if it's..." he paused. "I can help you out." Ed said, suddenly in "detective mode" again.

"No..." The dancer shook her head. "You don't understand. you can't help me...you can't help either of us." Cha-cha choked back another sob.

"Cha-cha." The detective said firmly, raising her chin up with his hand so she should meet his eyes, even though hers were invisible. He wouldn't have called her by her first name, but she hadn't provided him with any other means of identification. "What happened to you? You weren't like this yesterday."

She shook her head violently away from his hands, loking back down at her lap. The whole scene from last night flashed through her mind over and over again. before she kenw what she was doing, her sunglasses were push up above her forehead and she ws sliding the cloth of her angora sweater off one arm to reveal the dark, finger shaped bruises marring her mocha-coloured skin.

Ed's expression did not change as he looked at these bruises. finally, he brought his eyes up to meet hers and asked, again,

"What happened to you?"

Cha-cha covered her shoulders back up and lowered her voice to a low whisper.

"Dr. Z. Dr. Z happened to me."

**[DUN DUN**

"Come on, Falco. how many drug dealers are there on Avenue B?"

"About a hundred..." The junior detective crossed his arms in annoyance. "What's your plan, question everyone that's ever dealt cocaine in Alphabet City? Good luck with that."

fontana rolled his eyes.

"Dont' exaggerate, Nick. The shooting happened on Crhis Gordon's tramping ground... you know, that guy that skulks around in the alleys and calls himself 'the Man' like some kind of martyr with a bone to pick?"

"Sorry, _Joe._ I don't exactly study the local drug dealers in my spare time." Nick Falco said sarcastically.

"Then you obviously haven't been working the city very long. Stop acting like a punk and come on. We're going to Avenue B."


End file.
